Good with the gun

You don't sleep well that night, your dreams are fillled with random images of Chris's tortured face, it's as though he has a terrible secret that he can't tell anyone about.

As you walk into school your eyes wander around, searching for one person. Finally, you see him by the Bike Sheds.
"Hey, Chris" You smile. He looks at you blankly.
"Hi" His voice is dull, his face expressionless. Confusion fills you, was it only last night that you had spent hours talking? You frown after him as he walks off, nothing about him tells you anything about the way he's acting, he still invites you in though, you're drawn to him like a magnet.
The rest of the day is dull, lifeless. Your mind is preocupied with figuring out what's wrong with Chris.
When English finally arives you have an entire speech formed for him. You enter the room and quickly sit down next to Chris.
"Hey, Chris" You say cheerfully. He grunts in reply. You roll your eyes and sigh.
"What's up?"
"Nothing"
"Somethings wrong"
"Hey, I said Nothing, OK?" He snaps at you. You exhale angrily and turn away from him.
"OK, Kids, I want you all to be working on your projects tonight. That means you Ben and Alice" The teacher glares at the class. Apparently you and Chris were the only group to actually start the project. You sneak a look at Chris, he has a pained expression on his perfect face. You smirk, this is the perfect opportunity to find out what's been wrong with him.
"I'll meet you by the bike sheds after school" You whisper. He turns his head slightly and nods.

You're nervous after school has finished. The sun shines brightly in your eyes as you wait by the bike sheds.
"Er, hey, Katie" Chris's voice makes you look up.
"Hey, Chris" You don't meet his eyes.
"Look, I'm really sorry about my behaviour earlier. It was wrong of me to take my frustration out on you" You look up, suprised by his unexpected apology.
"I - It's fine, Chris" You smile, hoping that the sort of behaviour Chris displayed earlier wasn't going to be a continual thing.
"Good. Shall we go then?" HIs mood is considerably less sincere that it was a couple of seconds ago.
"Can I ask, why were you frustated this morning?" You ask, merely to find something to gill the heavy silence that surrounds you when you're not having a conversation.
"Well, I was more angry with myself, for letting myself have any kind of friendship with you." He smiles appologetically at you.
"Why would it be bad for us to have any kind of friendship?" You frown, you're not that unpopular. Sure, you're not one of the in - croud, but you're not a complete social-outcast.
"It wouldn't be healthy. I'm no good for you, Katie" He looked to be in some kind of emotional pain as he said that, and you realisee he isn't just trying to get rid of you, he was actually serious.
"I would ask 'why not?', but I'm sure you're not going to tell me" You grin at him, and he grins back, but you can see past all his cover ups, he's hiding something from you, something big, and you're going to find out.

The conversation in the car is minimal, you go to your house again. Chris insisted on that. You wonder why he won't even talk about his house for more than: "Why can't we go to your house?" "Because we can't" His attitide is more relaxed that the morning, but it's not like he was last night.

You're grateful for the music softly playing, filling the dead silence that hovers over you like a rain cloud. You try to think of something clever and witty to say, but nothing comes to mind. You can see the red brick houses fly by, with their small, brown lawns. Children play with balls, laughing happily. It makes you remember your own childhood, when you had a family, a propper family, where your parents would live under the same roof, and be able to stand to even live in the same country. Your mother ran off with a young football player when you were 6 years old, leaving you with your unsuspecting father. You haven't seen her for 10 years. Not even a birthday card.
"Hey, which one is your house?" Chris asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"Number 21" You answer, shaking your head a little to shake any "Family" thoughts from your mind. He stops the car and you both climb out, still not talking.

Once inside your house you immediatly hand him a piece of paper.
"OK. Lets get writing" You sit down on the squashy sofa and begin to write. Chris kneels down on the floor and uses the coffee table as a rest. You work in silence for a while, and as you finish the end lines he looks up.
"You know, it's your turn to be read" He grins at you, and you grimace.
"Fine"
You hand him the single piece of paper, and he begins to read.